Chapter Text
November
Tours can only delay the inevitable for so long. Patrick knew this, yet, as he sat on the plane from Germany to New York, a snoring Pete next to him, he had a hard time accepting that fact. He pulled out the paperwork that had burned an 8 ½ X 11 rectangular shape into his backpack for the last month. The weight of the fifty starch white pages felt heavier with the load of the fallout that would come from them.
FL-100 Petition for Dissolution of Marriage
When the man in the plain brown suit and receding hairline came into their lounge area backstage on their first night of their tour in Europe and handed Patrick the thick, manila envelope with his expressionless face, he knew what it meant. The fights had become more frequent, the nights sleeping on the couch in his recording studio when he wasn’t out touring. The distance between them had become a thick fog and no amount of couple’s therapy had seemed to work. He never thought they would actually divorce though. He just assumed it was a season they had to go through. Like the ones his band went through.
Patrick started thumbing absently through the pages, skimming over some of the details - custody, division of assets. He knew his lawyer already had a copy and asked questions about the house in LA and the house in Chicago, but Patrick didn’t have the energy to think about those details at the moment.
“Dude, you have plenty of time to look at that stuff and be miserable when we get home.” Pete’s voice startled him from his concentration, and Patrick jumped in his chair.
He looked over at his best friend, trying to keep a neutral face. Pete removed his sunglasses and neck pillow, eyeing Patrick with pity, and patted Patrick’s knee.
“Maybe I was hoping that when I looked at it, it would say something different or have a “Gotcha!” in there somewhere,” Patrick replied, closing the packet up and stuffing it back into his backpack. “Nope all that’s in there is a reminder that at the end of the day our ten plus years of marriage comes down to ones and zeroes.” He buried his face in his hands. “And the boys…”
The thought of their two young sons made Patrick start to tear up, and he removed his clear-framed glasses to wipe a few tears away. All of the sadness that he had been keeping buried in the deepest recesses of his heart started to crawl its way out of him, up through his throat, making it feel full and hard to talk. He heaved a heavy sob from deep within, and suddenly felt Pete’s arms encircle him, and he pressed his face into Pete’s shoulder. Pete’s hands rubbed his back and arm soothingly.
“‘Rick I’m so sorry, man,” Pete said quietly into his ear. “I know how hard it is, and Ashlee and I weren’t even together as long as you and Elisa were.” He squeezed Patrick tightly. “You’re going to be okay, I promise. It’ll take time, but you’ll get through it. Out of the two of us, you’ll probably deal with this a lot healthier than I did.”
Patrick sniffled and slowly pulled his head up to meet Pete’s face. “I wish I had been there for you right after it all happened. I’m sorry I wasn’t.”
Pete shook his head and laughed softly. “Patrick, that was like almost 15 years ago. I didn’t mean to make you start feeling even worse. Jesus, we don’t need to think about that now.” Pete pulled the sleeve of his hoodie and put it up to Patrick’s face to wipe the tears that were starting to dry on his cheeks. “You’ve got me now though, and Joe and Andy. We’ll get through it.”
Patrick nodded and cleared his throat. “You’re right. Of course you’re right,” he said, pulling back and straightening himself up. “It’s going to be so weird though, being back home when we’re separated.”
Pete wrinkled his brow in confusion. “What’dya mean?”
“So, um, Elisa wants to keep the house, which completely makes sense, right? I mean with me touring and stuff and her probably having the kids most of the time, I’ll need to find a place, but like, it won’t happen overnight…” Patrick’s house in LA wasn’t a massive mansion nor was it a tiny bungalow, but when two people who were no longer together still lived in a house together, no matter the size, it always felt a bit too small and restricting.
“Yikes, so what’s your plan?”
“Well, I’m going to probably take the guest room near my studio. Makes sense since I have some things to score and it’ll keep me as far away from her as possible when we’re both home together.”
Pete nodded and looked out in space thoughtfully. “Or… now hear me out… You could come stay with me… until she finds a place.”
Patrick looked at him blankly. “Stay with you? What about Megan? And the kids?” He knew Pete’s house was bigger than his. There was no envy behind that fact, it just was what it was.
Pete shrugged. “Megan kind of does her own thing and you know Marvel and Saint would be psyched if their Uncle Patrick was around all the time.”
Patrick contemplated Pete’s offer. Deep down, he wanted to go. He was used to living with Pete in close quarters, thanks to their twenty or so years living in their crappy apartment, vans, and tour buses. He knew more of Pete’s idiosyncrasies than his own soon-to-be ex-wife’s. There was an immediate sense of comfort in the option. He wouldn’t have to walk on eggshells, wouldn't have to feel the constant sting of rejection and defeat every time he might run into Elisa in the house. And he’d be with Pete. Something about that thought made him feel - content and happy.
“And I wouldn’t be a nuisance right?” Patrick asked him.
“Patrick, out of the two of us, which one is known to be an actual menace to society and who’s the one who’s always thanking everyone and making sure everyone is comfortable?” He raised an eyebrow challenging Patrick’s answer. Patrick just sighed in response, which made Pete know he had won. “Yess,” he said, pumping his fist. “It’s going to be great. I might actually get you to hang out like a normal person.”
Patrick rolled his eyes. “I know how to do that… most of the time.”
“Uh-huh, sure you do. And look after the new year, we can move everything into our guest room and start looking for your own place, and then you can stop stepping all over my hospitality.”
“Hey! You are the one -”
“I’m just kidding, ‘Rick, Jesus,” Pete shook his head and rubbed the top of Patrick’s head, messing up his dark sandy blonde hair. Patrick’s hands quickly flew to the top of his head to shoo Pete’s hand away and fix his now rumpled locks, strategically smoothing them over the area of his head that was slowly starting to bald. Maybe that is really the reason Elisa is leaving me , he thought , maybe she doesn’t find me attractive anymore. Patrick was convinced that age and genetics weren’t on his side, no matter how often Pete would call him cute. “It’ll be like old times. And I’ll even let you take over the studio since, you know, you probably need it more than I do anyway.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll come stay with you,” Patrick finally relented, holding his hands up in defeat.
“Excellent.” Pete clapped his hands together excitedly. “One rule though - just don’t fall in love with me Stump.”
An invisible string tugged at Patrick’s heart and it made him uncomfortable when Pete said that. He knew he was joking, or at least he thought he was, but it still made Patrick squirm. He just wasn’t sure if it was because he was embarrassed once again by Pete’s implications, or if he was disappointed by Pete’s warning. “Yeah, you wish I would,” he said back lamely, struggling to form the sentence.
He held Pete’s stare until Pete’s smile went away and his eyes suddenly flitted down to his neck pillow and sunglasses. Ha, he won that round. Without another word, Pete put his sunglasses back on and his neck pillow and nuzzled his face against it. Patrick kept staring at him for a second to see if he was still looking at him, but it seemed like Pete had closed his eyes once more. Patrick grabbed his jacket from under his seat, balled it up, and stuck it under his head and up against the plane’s wall. Pete had the right idea. There was nothing more Patrick could do on that long international flight so he closed his eyes and tried to get some sleep himself.
What he didn’t notice, as his own eyes closed, were Pete’s opening his eyes and eyeing Patrick with a forlorn look.